Only Regret
by ShepFic
Summary: Continuing the scene just before the jump through the Omega-4 Relay, Femshep/Garrus. Unabashed smut, not a lot of talking or drama, I wanted to focus on the sexy bits. Edited 4/8/14, fixed some formatting and typos and made tiny convo changes.


Garrus leaned into her, gripping her elbow with his gloved hand, their foreheads pressed together. Shepard sighed and reached up to his shoulder with her right hand, her left resting against his chest. She touched him gently through the fabric of his tunic, testing the resistance of his plates. Her fingertips trailed to his cowl, where her hands met and massaged the junction of cowl and chest, and he shuddered involuntarily at the contact. There was something so intimate about the whole thing—this was his Commander, the person he respected more than anyone and had looked up to for years, even before he knew her personally—and he had never been so close to her, and certainly had never touched her in this way. Despite their recent flirtations, all contact had been in the context of battle or sparring in the armory. He didn't think he had ever been so nervous in his life. Her hands, so tiny and many-fingered, had been tracing indistinct patterns on his chest idly as his free hand had moved to the small of her back, and now she stepped in closer to him. She smelled like flowers, he thought, and something else indefinable, something distinctly human and soft and Shepard. She looked up at him, eyes so large but relaxed, smiling softly up at him, and some of the nervousness dissipated.

"You okay?" she asked, cocking her head to the side a little.

"Uh… yeah. Yes." He replied, clearing his throat, still taking in her softness and wondering if this was a mistake. However, she seemed determined, and he was not one to disappoint her.

"Good. Because I like how you feel." He grinned sheepishly at that, immensely pleased at her words. She moved her hands to the softer, leathery skin of his neck, stroking it first gently, then with more pressure, until he closed his eyes and sighed. Despite the nervousness, he thought this must be the best he'd felt in a long time. She lifted a hand to stroke his fringe as the other felt around to the soft underside of it, massaging him as she explored his alien features. He followed suit, raking his fingers through the incredibly strange hair humans had, surprised at how pliable it was and wondering if humans were really that soft all over, as they seemed to be.

Suddenly she pulled her hands away from his and stepped back, the hair he was toying with slipping through his talons easily, and thinking he had hurt her, or she had changed his mind, started, "Shepard, I'm—"

"Garrus," she interrupted. "I want to touch you properly. Take your shirt off."

He sputtered. She wanted to continue? Now he was nervous again. He had done his share of "research" and knew fairly well what to expect, but what about her? She had virtually no time to herself, what with the weight of countless lives depending on her, much less time to watch interspecies porn. He needed to warn her at least. "Shepard," he said, "I don't know what you know about turians, but we're, ah, pretty hard compared to humans. I don't know if you're going to like this."

She considered his words for a moment, then said with no trace of the teasing smile so often reserved for him, "Garrus." She stepped into him again, caressing his mangled mandible, eliciting another soft sigh from him. "I'm me. I know what I'm doing. If it'll make you feel better, I'll go first."

His eyes widened a little at that, and she promptly stepped away again, but this time did it while unbuttoning the top of her uniform. Even this small gesture, her nimble fingers swiftly undressing herself, caused his plates to shift a little in his pants without warning, and he found himself surprised at his body's response to something so innocuous—at least in comparison to what they were going to do.

Her shirt laid partially open before him now, a smooth and slightly pink expanse of skin visible from between the folds of the shirt. She made to open it further, perhaps to shrug it off, but his hand shot out and before he knew what he was doing, he laid it upon her exposed skin. He heard her small intake of breath, but she didn't flinch or pull away. With a single talon, he traced a line from between her collar bones down to the indent near the bottom—her navel—and he felt her shiver at his touch. Something about her movement, her willingness to bare herself to him, to trust him like this and knowing that she wanted him as well, had pushed aside the nervousness for the moment, replaced by his curiosity and his strangely sudden arousal. He realized that he needed to get these damn gloves off.

He removed his hand from her chest to pluck the gloves from his fingers, noticing that she watched his movements almost hungrily, a look present in her eyes that he had only witnessed recently as they brushed against each other in the elevator or in the quiet moments between their laughter in the shuttle or mess hall, reserved only for him. She had seen his hands before, but again they had always been fixing up the Mako, playing poker, throwing punches—never in this way. And the second they were off, they were on her again, this time parting her shirt further, revealing her torso in full to him.

He'd watched the vids, though he'd never tell Mordin that. By now he was familiar with the contours of human body. He knew that male humans loved breasts, though he never understood the appeal—of course, he'd never seen the sexual appeal of any human before Shepard. Seeing her like this, though, was doing something for him. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, her lips were parted, big eyes watching him intently, and the curves of her breasts and her slim waist—the effect of her, all of her, was undeniable. He wanted her, he wanted to touch all of her at once, to taste her skin, to hear her whisper his name.

Abruptly he pushed the shirt from her shoulders, barely registering its fall to the floor, and kneaded her flesh, starting with her neck and shoulders, as she had been doing to him moments before. Her skin was cool compared to a turian's, but pleasantly so, and infinitely soft on the surface with clearly firm, corded muscle just underneath the surface. He knew how tough she was, even for a human, but the tenderness of her flesh in this moment was special, a treat that he thought very few had ever witnessed.

His need was growing, and if the state of her erect nipples were any indication, hers was as well. He growled softly, and bent his head to hers, rubbing his forehead against hers again as his fingers trailed over her waist, feeling the dips in the sides of her body, then moving to her breasts. He first grasped them in his large hands, squeezing them gently, and she released a moan, pressing her chest further into his hands. Emboldened by her desire, he gently flicked the pads of his thumbs over her nipples, taking in the sight of her face, blunt teeth biting at her bottom lip, brow furrowed in concentration. He then grasped a nipple and pinched it, gently at first, then harder, and she moaned again, raising her hands to his hips and pulling his body flush against hers.

"Garrus," she sighed, "Take your clothes off."

He chuckled at the command and replied, "Yes, ma'am." He undid the clasps of his tunic quickly but clumsily—he wasn't used to civvies, having lived in his heavy armor for the last year. He tore it off and flung it unceremoniously onto the floor of her cabin, followed quickly by his pants and stood, realizing she had already disposed of her own as well, and now they stood completely naked in front of one another. He drank in the sight of her, all soft curves and rosy skin, for only a moment before she pressed into him again and, raising her flushed face to his, kissed him on the mouth.

Turians didn't kiss, but having done his "research" he thought he could swing this—he had to try, as it seemed like it was important to humans. She moved her full, soft lips against his harder ones, but she didn't seem put off or discouraged by his anatomy in this department. If anything, the feel of his own leathery lips seemed to please her, as she licked them with her nubile, hot tongue. He opened his mouth to reciprocate, following her lead, but his own rough tongue was met with hers before it reached her lips. She licked and sucked at his mouth and his tongue, still so impossibly soft and warm and wet, and he was all too aware of her hard nipples and her hips pressed into his body, making his nether plates shift open even further. She broke away to kiss and nip at his mandibles, then along his jaw and down to the soft skin of his neck, where she sucked at him. Oh, Spirits, that felt good.

He trembled slightly at her ministrations, moving his hands over her body, squeezing and kneading her breasts, her waist, her buttocks, while marveling at the pleasing smoothness of her. Then she bit into his neck, and her hands flitted over the sensitive skin of his narrow waist, and his plates shifted free, allowing him to spring against her. She jumped a little, surprised, and looked down, eyes widening at the sight of his cock, so large and blue and glistening with lubrication.

He took advantage of the interruption to nudge her back toward the fish tank, hands on her hips, until her back pressed against its cool surface, making her gasp. He wrapped one hand around the back of her neck and bent down, kissing her again—he thought he might like this kissing thing—pressing against her insistently now, a sense of urgency growing in him. She wrapped one arm around his waist, pulling him even closer to her, fidgeting until both of her legs surrounded one of his, and he felt the warmth of her crotch radiating onto his skin.

She tried to grasp his erect cock, to stroke it, but he wasn't ready for that quite yet—he wanted to play with her first, if only for a few moments. He grasped the intruding hand and moved it to his shoulder, growling, "Keep your hands where they are, Shepard." She shivered at the sound of his subharmonics and his command, but didn't disobey. He moved his mouth downward, growling into her as he licked a line from underneath her chin, along her jaw, and up to her ear, which he nibbled gently as she moaned for him. He nipped and licked his way down her neck, her collarbone, finally to her breast, where he experimentally tongued her protruding nipple. At the contact she bucked her hips against him, and for the first time he felt her wetness, so much wetness and all for him, against his thigh. He kept it up, licking at her nipple and mouthing at it while she started to pant with need. While she was distracted he ran a talon down, from her hip to the apex of her sex, and lightly dragged it over the folds of her skin there.

"Garrus!" She groaned, biting her lip again. "Please…"

He stopped his movements, worried momentarily that she didn't want this, and lifted his head to look at her. "Shepard?"

"Mmm… keep going… don't stop." She asked, voice barely more than a whisper, eyes closed. He was all too happy to oblige her. He gently rubbed the pad of his finger over her clit briefly before slipping down, parting her skin and revealing the wetness that lay there. It was slick and so, so pink. He rubbed his finger down and around that pink area, not yet entering her, wanting to draw this out for as long as possible and to hear her say his name like that again. Watching her face closely now, he teased her, reveling in the heat of her face and her pussy, his cock throbbing almost painfully against her as she panted out his name, incoherently begging for more, gripping him tightly as she hung on for dear life. Finally, as her juices threatened to run down her thighs in rivulets and onto the floor, she half-choked, half-sobbed his name again.

"Please, Garrus," her eyes snapped open, looking up at him pleadingly. "I need you inside me, please." Hearing her, the great and powerful Commander Shepard, begging for his cock awoke something inside him which had held itself back until now. Her need for him, her wanton lust that he had caused in her, was driving him utterly wild. He liked to think in that moment, however foolish it was,that somehow she would never let this side of herself be shown to any other man, that this was special, only for him.

He groaned with pleasure at the sounds of her begging and panting for him, and roughly shoved both of his fingers into her. She cried out with pleasure as his long, muscular fingers probed into her, filling her up neatly and brushing against her G spot with every thrust. He was too aroused now to simply explore—after all, they didn't have much time. Instead he fucked her with his fingers, hard, and she bucked against him wildly as his other hand plucked at her nipples, pinching and pulling at them roughly.

Her hands gripped his shoulder and waist hard, her short nails digging into him, her face so full of distress and lust that he thought he might not be able to contain his release much longer just by watching her reddened face and feeling her own pleasure around his fingers. In almost no time at all, she was coming for him, her tight inner walls clenching around his fingers as she rode his hand, a silent scream trapped in her throat as she shuddered and convulsed against him. He slowed his pace as her spasms shortened, finally stopping as he felt her take an enormous gasp of air—he didn't realize she had been holding her breath throughout her orgasm. Finally she slumped, limp and sweaty and shivering, into his arms, and he withdrew his fingers with an obscene wet pop.

She leaned against him completely, unable to stand on her own, her arms wrapped around his waist as his hands held her up and stroked her back, cool and slick with sweat. He rested his head atop hers and in the quiet moment marveled at the intimacy between them. Shepard, his best friend, undone in his presence and boneless and shivering in his arms… it was unfathomable to him, even though it had just happened.

He didn't know how long they stood like that, next to the fish tank, both of them wet with her juices. Eventually, just as he had begun to worry that maybe she had fallen asleep standing up against him and was biting back his disappointment, he jerked in surprise as her smooth hand suddenly gripped his still-erect cock and squeezed gently. He hadn't even realized her hands had left his waist—he guessed she could be stealthy as long as it wasn't on the battlefield.

"Shepard!" He gasped, looking down at her and seeing her face, still flushed with blood and heat, but now grinning wickedly up at him. She started to stroke him, so gently as to do nothing more than tease, making him groan into her shoulder, where he lowered his head. "I was thinking that maybe you were done…"

"Humans are more resilient than you think, Vakarian," she breathed into his ear. "If we didn't have a suicide mission to attend to in a couple hours, I could go all night." He gasped at a particularly pleasurable rub to the tip of his cock with just the tip of a single finger, and pressed a hand to the glass behind her to steady himself before he fell over onto her. He raised his other hand to her hair again, playing with the silky strands as she toyed with him, squeezing and pulling and rubbing with all those fingers, purring into his ear.

"I can't believe how big you are, Vakarian… I thought your fingers were big, but this… I just can't wait for you to be inside me."

He was coming undone and couldn't stand her teasing anymore, not with what she was whispering to him that low, husky way. With something almost resembling a roar, he wrenched her hands away from him and in one swift movement, scooped her up in his arms as she cried out in surprise, crossed the room in three long strides, and threw her unceremoniously onto her neatly made bed. She stretched languorously before him, her body long and lean and shimmering, looking up at him with those dusky eyes and a knowing smirk.

He kneeled between her legs, running his hands up them slowly from ankle to thigh, finally parting them insistently and bending over her to look into her eyes. She reached up and, grabbing him by the fringe, pulled his mouth down to her again, their kiss now more desperate and wild than before. Her hands roamed over his chest, his neck, his fringe, grabbing at him with neediness as she tried to buck her hips into him. He almost laughed at her efforts before pressing down into her, preventing her from trying that again, making her whine.

"No you don't, Shepard," he said, taking her hands from him and pinning them above her head by the wrists with one hand while his other traveled down around her thigh, gripping it tightly and lifting it high to open her up further. "Let me be in charge for once."

"Fuck me, Garrus," she panted. "Please, I can't wait anymore, I need you so badly." She licked her lips as she gazed up at him, fire in her eyes, hair spread against the bed like a wild crown. He was tempted to give in and just do it now, but he wanted to extend this for just a moment longer. He smiled and bent his head to her neck, nipping at her tender flesh and following the bites with his tongue, creating a hot tingling trail along her body from jaw to shoulder, muttering so quietly to himself that her translator couldn't pick up what he said. It drove her insane and made her writhe against him with her need, whimpering at him to please enter her at last. He needed her just as badly, if not more. He couldn't believe she could be like this for him—that she wanted a turian, let alone a bad one with a rocket-maimed face. He definitely couldn't last much longer, penetration or no, so it was time.

He rose up above her and, keeping her hands pinned down, placed her leg over his shoulder and pressed the tip of his cock against her slick pussy, sliding it up and down her slit, shuddering at her unbelievable wetness and heat. She closed her eyes and moaned his name again in that way he already had come to adore, and knew wanted to hear her say it again and again if they lived through this next mission. And suddenly, absolutely ready and filled with a sudden hope that this wouldn't be the last time, he thrust into her, as deep as he could go.

She screamed at the abrupt entrance, and he damn well almost did too, choking it back just as his cry was slipping out—he thought for a split second that somebody on the ship, aside from EDI, had probably heard her, but he didn't care. She felt amazing around him, his girth filling her up and stretching her impossibly tight pussy, which clenched around him pleasurably as her body adjusted to him. He gave her a few seconds, watching her face as she squeaked at the sensation. Her eyes fluttered open and met his, signaling to him that she was ready. Slowly, at first, he withdrew from her fully and then slid into her again, gently and smoothly, reveling in the feeling of her parting for him each time, so tight and wet around his cock and unlike turian women.

"Ohhh fuck, Garrus," she groaned between clenched teeth, "I can't—please, harder—" He gladly obeyed her this time and sped up his motions, grinding against her with as much force as he could muster, and felt her thighs tense up and quake as her release neared. Her back arched against him, raising her off the bed, her face contorted and turned to the side. For several minutes they moaned and panted together, a meaningless stream of curses mingling with one another's names filling the otherwise silent cabin.

With a particularly hard, forceful thrust, she came suddenly—her cunt clamped down on him as waves of pleasure pulsed through her, and she screamed out for him again, calling out his name so desperately, her voice breaking as her body convulsed underneath him, and that was it for him. He followed immediately, coming inside of her as her contracting pussy squeezed fluid out of him greedily, his cry echoing her own as his body jerked erratically against hers. Then they lay panting, covered in sweat and their mingling juices, her wrists finally free and her legs prone and shivering along his own quivering body.

He rolled off of her and lay beside her on his back, eyes closed as his breath gradually slowed. He almost felt like drifting off, so comfortable and relaxed after that, even laying on her too-big, human bed beneath the stars, his mind a blissfully foggy cloud incapable of worry or doubt. Then he felt her leg swing over his hip, and he opened one sleepy eye to glance at her. She had raised herself up on an elbow, supporting her head with a hand as she watched him, not with her Commander Shepard gaze but the kind of look she gave only to him, the look of his close friend waiting for him to make her laugh.

"Shepard, like what you see?" Opening his other eye, he turned on his side and mimicked her pose, looking back at her.

She laughed openly at that. "Oh, definitely. I have a fetish for overconfident turians."

He growled in mock anger at her words. "Well…" He tried to think of something clever to say, but his head didn't want to cooperate at the moment. He floundered, mandibles fluttering momentarily, and was saved by her hand on his face, stroking his scars.

"You know, I really like these." Her thumb danced over the spots where the blue colony markings had once been. He closed his eyes in pleasure, enjoying the feeling of her fingers on him, the closeness igniting a mysterious pang within his chest that he didn't want to—couldn't—explore at the moment. Not when Omega-4 was an hour away.

"The scars, or the colony markings?" he asked, not really caring which she preferred.

"Both," she said with a smile.

After a few minutes of silence, she whispered to him, "Thank you, Garrus." He opened his eyes in time to see her as she bent over and kissed him, so gently, on his scarred mandible. He blinked, and was about to speak when—

"Shepard, Mr. Moreau needs to relay a message to you. May I patch him through?"

Shepard removed her hand from Garrus, and with a sigh that sounded more tired than anything he'd heard from her, sat up on the bed.

"Fun time's over, I guess. Sure EDI, patch him through." With more than a little regret, Garrus rose and strode to where their clothes lay tangled in front of the fish tank.

"Commander," Joker's voice echoed through the cabin, "ETA one hour and Jacob needs some help in the armory, he said it's important."

"All right Joker, thanks for the message. I'll get on that in a few."

"Aye aye, Commander. Joker out."

His pants were already on, and as he secured the clasps on his tunic, she glanced at him from over her shoulder where she sat, naked, at the edge of her bed. He thought she looked beautiful, and even now he was surprised at that feeling. He had never found humans particularly attractive, but Shepard, sitting there, still covered in the evidence of their union and her hair tousled—well, she was beautiful to him. And again, he felt that pang. It had started as sex between friends before more than likely death at the hands of the Collectors or the Reapers or whatever lay before them, but he couldn't deny it to himself anymore, not with the mission at hand. Now that he knew how she felt with him, to be inside of her and to kiss her-this had definitely become something more. And that, more than anything, more than the risk of death, hurt.

"I'm going to rinse off before I head down there." She looked down at the floor, and he was unsure of what to say at this point. She continued, however. "Garrus, I… that was wonderful. The best." He purred at that, incredibly pleased with himself. Overconfident turian, my ass, he thought. "And obviously, we may not get the chance again so I just want to say that…" Her voice died out there, leaving the thought unfinished.

He had rarely witnessed her at a loss for words-indeed, she usually didn't know when to shut up, troublemaker that she was. Something important was on her mind, and he had made it his job to be there, no matter what, for her.

He crossed the room to her and crouched in front of her, lifting up her chin with his hand so he could look into her eyes. He said, "Shepard. It was amazing for me, too. The absolute best. My only regret is that we waited so long, but know that no matter what happens at the Collector base… I'll treasure this." She smiled into his hand, grasping it with her own small, pink one.

"Damn, Vakarian, you always know just what to say."

"Yeah, I'm pretty clever like that."

They sat that way, looking into each others' eyes for only a moment, leaving whatever else they were thinking internalized. Garrus wanted badly to tell her more of the truth, but decided that this wasn't the time. They had a mission to complete and a galaxy to die for. So, instead he rose, and exiting the cabin, left her to her shower.

Outside her door he sighed, slumping against the wall next to the elevator as he waited for its arrival. Time to get back to work.


End file.
